


everybody has an addiction, mine happens to be you

by zouee



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Handcuffs, M/M, Marijuana, Tour Bus, Where We Are Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:06:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2107506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zouee/pseuds/zouee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis and zayn do what they always do after a show -- smoke weed. (louis doesn't expect what happens the day after on bus 1)</p><p>inspired by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LrKarJdSzZA">x</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	everybody has an addiction, mine happens to be you

Louis walks off the stage after their final act, waving off the roaring crowd before disappearing behind the curtain. He jogs down the metal stairs as one of the crew members pass him a towel and he grabs it without needing to think and pats his forehead briefly with it.

"Nice show, boys!"

"Thanks, man." Harry answers the person from behind Louis. Louis turns to him, not expecting him to be there. Harry grins at him.

"Sick crowd, wasn’t it?"

Louis nods, “Yeah, incredible.”

Harry walks passed him and collapses on one of the couches. Louis wants to ask why Zayn wasn’t behind him - since it’s usually him and Zayn after the show, not him and Harry - but he doesn’t question it out loud, doesn’t want to spark any scepticism.

So he sits down beside Harry, watching him as he proceeds to peel open an orange. He almost wants to laugh at the contrasting difference from him and Zayn’s after-show ritual.

"Did the other lads go into the other room?" Louis eventually asks. He doesn’t mention Zayn in particular, but the truth is that his skin is itching for a smoke - and something (or some _one_ ) else.

Harry nods a few times, his fingers dissecting the orange. “Yeah, Niall and Liam did. Zayn went somewhere else, though.” He says. Louis frowns instantly. “So, I joined you ‘cause I know how much you hate being alone.”

Harry smiles at him and Louis quickly gives him one in return. When their eyes part, though, Louis’ brows pull together in confusion. Is Zayn alright? Is he sick of Louis? Did he want to smoke by himself?

"Did he - did Zayn tell you why he went?"

Harry shrugs, “Nup. Y’know how he is, though.”

"Yeah," Louis says. He feels his stomach deflate and he sits down next to Harry, trying not to feel so terrible about it but it claws at him like a trapped, angry animal.

"He’ll join you in here after he’s done, I’m sure." Harry reassures him, patting his knee twice.

The sound of the crowd chanting their names echoes into the room and it’s the loudest thing at that moment. Until Louis’ phone buzzes across the table.

From where he’s sitting, he can see the screen illuminate with ‘ _Zayn_ ’ and it lights up Louis’ eyes instantly. He leans over and grabs it, opening the message with one swift movement.

_View looks sick from up here. Join me on the rooftop. :) x_

"Sorry, Haz." Louis tells him, his stomach suddenly buzzing like it does before a show.

Harry looks up at him, pouts, “You’re leaving me?”

"Oh, don’t look so sad!" Louis messes up Harry’s hair as he walks passed him. "Pretty sure Niall wanted to show you something, anyway."

"He did?" Harry asks, his eyes brightening.

"Sure." Louis lies with a smile.

☯

The night-time air stings with frost as it touches Louis’ skin. His nose is suddenly the coldest part of his entire body yet he feels the furthest from frozen. It could be from excitement or nerves or something of the sort but it warms him up like a cup of tea.

He places his hands on the ladder leading up to the rooftop and takes in a sharp intake of breath as the ice on the steel burns his palms. He pulls his sleeves over his hands and tries again.

Smoke flies up into the air and Louis’ skin starts to itch again. He speeds up his pace until he reaches the roof, his mouth growing into a smile once he spots Zayn.

He’s sat with an oversized black hoodie and jeans, the same pair he wore throughout the show; he’s got his hood up and a roll up fit between his fingers. His legs are hung over the side of the roof, so casually as though there was no risk to that at all.

Louis steps onto the roof, wondering what Zayn meant by the view, since what he’s seeing right now is better than any.

Footsteps must have made Zayn turn; he looks up and meets Louis’ eyes, smiling.

"Hey," He says, handing Louis his joint.

"Hey," Louis replies, sitting himself down next to him, taking the roll up with his fingers. He places it between his lips and inhales the marijuana that satisfies his lungs.

"I could see the crowd from here." Zayn tells him, gesturing with one of his hands. "So many of them, you don’t really realise ‘till you watch with all the lights on."

"We should do it after every show, then." Louis says, blowing out the smoke. "Find a rooftop that looks over the crowd."

He hands it to Zayn. They lock eyes and Zayn smiles. “Yeah, that’d be sick.”

Louis feels something flip inside him and he has to look away to make it dim. Though, he has to look back to watch as Zayn shuts his eyes and inhales slowly, his profile only shadows.

"Let’s tell secrets." Louis blurts.

Zayn lets the smoke escape his mouth. His eyebrow rises. “Secrets?”

Louis clears his throat. He wants to curse his lips for opening.

"Yeah," He says, shrugging nonchalantly, "D’you have any secrets?"

Zayn hands it back to Louis and leans back on his hands. His head leans back, too, his eyes towards the sky.

"Not really, Lou." He tells him. "Don’t think I could hide anything from you, anyway."

He laughs a little and Louis takes it that much further. It might’ve been the drug, it might’ve been nerves, but the laugh that comes out is too loud.

He clears his throat again immediately afterwards. Maybe he should purchase a sewing thread and a needle to sow his lips together.

It’s silent now. It’s not windy yet the clouds in the sky are moving like it should be. The stars are brighter from up here than they were down on the stage, glistening like eyes do when they’re happy. They remind Louis of Zayn.

"What ‘bout you?" Zayn asks, cocking his chin towards Louis’ direction. "What’re your secrets?"

"Well, Malik," Louis says, pressing what’s left of the joint into the roof. He mimics Zayn’s position and shakes his head. "What you just did then would be classified as cheating, you know."

"What?" Zayn asks, slightly high-pitched. "Is this a game, now?"

"Always has been, mate."

Zayn shakes his head like he does whenever Louis says something like this. He smiles softly and he sits back up again, ready to roll another one.

"I’ll need a few of these for this, then."

"Oooo," Louis teases, wiggling his eyebrows, "has someone got a deep dark secret?"

Zayn pauses. Then, “Can’t tell ya.” He licks the strip of the paper. “That would be cheating.”

He winks and it’s like Louis needs to regain his breath for a second. He doesn’t know what else to do so he smiles and tries his best to play it cool.

"You’re a smart man, Malik." Louis comments as Zayn lights the joint between his lips, the dash of flame brightening up his face. It illuminates in a different way than the moon, more abrupt and direct, and it’s impossible not to stare.

He inhales, passes, and exhales while saying, “I’m no smarter than you, Louis.”

Louis pauses. He raises his eyebrows. “Well, there’s one secret out.”

Zayn lets out a laugh, “That’s no secret.” He says, locking eyes with Louis. “You’re incredibly smart, you know that? Funny, too.”

"You forgot one more thing." Louis says, praying on all the stars that Zayn can’t see the red flowing on his cheeks.

"Mm? What’s that?"

"You forgot to add that I’m also ridiculously handsome."

Zayn smiles, his lips open as though he’s about to say something but they close again before any words come out. Then, after a pause, he says, “The most handsome man I’ve ever met.”

And to stop himself from saying something stupid, Louis brings the joint up to his lips. He goes to inhale but the flame has burnt out.

"Oh. It’s, uh—"

"I’ve got it." Zayn says, bringing the lighter to the tip of it.

The joint remains in Louis’ mouth as Zayn flicks the lighter onto it. Louis wonders what his own face looks like brightened by the flame - nowhere near as beautiful as Zayn’s, of course.

"Thanks," Louis says, after taking another hit.

"Not a problem."

They both stay quiet for a moment or two. Niall’s exploding laughter can be heard from beneath them - Louis’ guess is that he’s cracking up over something stupid Harry said - and at the same moment, Zayn’s phone buzzes between them.

Louis tries not to glance at the screen - he knows how much Zayn likes privacy - but he does it without thinking. He sees Liam on the screen, followed by a text message that he couldn’t catch, since the phone was taken by Zayn’s hand.

Zayn laughs a little as he reads it and it sends a bitter taste to Louis’ tongue as jealousy rumbles around in his stomach. He takes the weed again in hopes that it soothes himself, or something.

"Liam says the tour buses had a malfunction, says they won’t be up and running for a little while."

Louis exhales, licks his lips, and then asks, “What else did he say?”

Zayn’s eyes are fixed on the screen, thumbs tapping out a reply when he raises one eyebrow. “Hm?”

Louis shakes his head, “Nothing.”

Because he hardly thinks _that’s_ what Liam said to make Zayn laugh.

He closes his eyes, just briefly, but it’s then when he can feel the drug hit. He finds it hard to re-open his eyelids, as though there were weights on them, but when he does it’s like an entirely different world. It’s sort of fuzzy - glazed, even - and Louis feels like he could fly.

"So, back to the game." He hears Zayn say.

Louis nods and smiles. “I’ll start.” He says without thinking. He doesn’t need to think anymore, he concludes. Thinking only creates meaningless issues; thinking is like a bottomless pit that only gets deeper the more you do it. So, he faces Zayn and his smile grows - without thinking, of course.

"I reckon we should, like, do a thing where instead of just saying a secret we should, like, guess each other’s, you know?" He suggests, quite proud of his idea.

Zayn folds his bottom lip and nods once. “Alright, cool. So, I’m guessing yours, then?”

"Yeah," Louis says, trying not to sound like he was floating on a cloud.

"You…" Zayn starts to think. He squints a little and looks up, as though he was smouldering up at the sky. It’s more interesting this way, now. It’s like they have to think of something that both of them are hiding. Louis wonders if Zayn’ll ever guess that Louis’ in love with him. "You have a girl in your room right now."

Huh. Maybe not.

Louis makes sure he doesn’t pull a face. But instead, like it was any better, he scoffs and says, “If there was, why would I be up here with you?”

“‘Cause you like me better.” Zayn says without hesitation. Louis’ cheeks start to go hot. “Plus,” Zayn continues, holding up a plastic bag from beside him up, “I have your beloved Mary J.”

Louis laughs, “True.”

Zayn smiles as though he’s achieved something, and places the bag down. He hands Louis another joint.

"Your turn," He says, before placing one into his own mouth.

Louis waits for both of theirs to be lit before he begins. He figures that since they’re on the topic of girls and because his mind lacks a sense of creativity, (either because of the drug or because of the heat radiating from the person next to him) he only recites the question.

" _You_ have a girl in your room."

"You can’t do that." Zayn says immediately.

Louis frowns, “Do what?”

"Repeat the same question I had for you."

Louis lets out a small laugh and raises both his eyebrows in amazement, “Oh, so _you’re_ the rule maker for this game, now, are you?”

One side of Zayn’s mouth lifts up into a smirk. Louis leans back onto his hands, still facing Zayn. He brings up the joint to his lips and he sucks it in, feeling the burn of it throughout his throat.

He sees the lights of the buildings past Zayn, looking like blurry specs of yellow and white all in the distance whilst Zayn, the only clear thing in his vision, is the brightest of them all.

He wants this game to speed up. He just wants his own secret to come out, to get his feelings finally in the open. Four years is too long for something like this to be coddled up inside him like a closed, shaken up soft drink.

He wants Zayn to know. He also wants Zayn to feel the same way. Though he knows there’s a slim, minuscule chance of that happening.

Harry’s words echo through Louis’ head, _“Well, if he knows, then it’ll be the only thing he’ll think about. Eventually, he’ll have no choice but to kill his curiosity and kiss you.”_

Zayn looks at him as he waits and Louis’ mind thinks without meaning to. Then he’s saying, “You have a _boy_ in your room,” and suddenly the silent, calm atmosphere is sliced in half.

Zayn fidgets and Louis laughs to ease the tension he’s unknowingly brought up. Zayn laughs, too, but it sounds more forced than usual.

He avoids Louis’ eyes when he says, “No… Not exactly.”

Louis wishes he wasn’t so stoned. Maybe then his mind would catch up to Zayn’s words faster. Maybe then he could make sense of what “not exactly” meant.

"You fancy someone." Zayn says, almost straight after, as though he were changing the topic somehow.

And because he does that, Louis feels like he’ll have to do the same. He can’t afford to answer without it hanging in the air long enough for Zayn to think about.

"Yeah." Louis replies. And before Zayn can even change his expression, Louis says, "You’re thinking of someone right now."

Then, like a game of chess, it starts. One move after the other, no hesitations after their answers, no time to regret what they admit. It’s like an intense game of tennis, the ball hitting over to either side of the court before heads can turn.

It sends a thrill of excitement through Louis’ body and he sits up because of it.

"Sure am." Zayn replies. "Who do you fancy?"

Louis’ racket misses the ball. It’s like he didn’t even go for it, he just stood there as it swept passed him like a gust of wind.

He blinks. “That’s a whopper of a secret there, Zayn.” He tells him, truthfully. Zayn shrugs. Louis feels his cheeks warm up again and he knows for sure that now this moment has arrived, ready to be taken and used, he’s not ready to come clean at all. “I’m only gonna say it’s someone you know.”

"Were they here today?" Zayn asks.

"Can’t say. It’s not my turn." Louis replies with a smile. Zayn’s already broken the rules, though. He’s asking questions now, not suggesting Louis’ secrets. But Louis lets that one slip, because now he’s about to break the rules as well.

“Do you… Do you wish that the person you’re thinking of was here right now?”

In other words, _“Because if the person you’re thinking of is Liam, then I’ll be going now.”_

"I don’t have to." Zayn says.

The words send through Louis’ ears like balls of fire. He swallows deeply. His mouth quickly turns dry from all the weed, yet he feels like it’s waiting for something other than water to quench his sudden thirst.

"Were they here today?" Zayn repeats, his focus so completely on Louis that he’s forgotten about the burning joint between his fingers.

Louis pauses. “Yeah.”

He opens his mouth to ask, “Is it Liam?” When:

"—is it a girl or a boy?"

Louis takes a look at Zayn’s face. It’s casted with such determination and curiosity that Louis feels hotter than usual under his gaze. Something tells him they’re not playing a game anymore.

He tries to avoid the question. “You’re breaking the rules, Malik.”

" _Girl_ or _boy_." He grits out.

Louis bites his lip.

His own roll up dwindles in his fingers and he can’t help but think that it’s telling him his time’s almost up.

His mind’s foggy and his eyes are red and his mouth is dry and his hands are shaking and he’s not sure whether that’s from the cold or not but one thing he knows for sure is that Zayn’s eyes haven’t left his face.

They’re burning a hole somewhere and he can feel it but all he wants to do is feel his warmth some other way.

He swallows again even though he lacks moisture and he locks eyes with Zayn even though it scares him to death.

"It’s you."

It falls silent as Zayn’s expression remains the same. The only thing Louis can feel is the burning inside his chest and the fuzziness throughout his head.

Then something burns the insides of his fingers and he drops the unfinished joint onto the ceiling in fright.

☯

The next day arrives faster than expected. Louis wakes up slightly groggy and his mouth tastes of smoke and his hair stinks of weed.

The previous night ended smoothly, but definitely not how he preferably wanted. Zayn had taken Louis’ spoken confession gracefully - no questions, no comments - and continued the conversation without another mention of it.

And it may have been Louis’ drug-induced state of mind or the fact that he’s the king of swerving awkward situations but he didn’t bring it up again, either.

So as the afternoon sounds of the crew talking outside and Niall’s loud, muffled voice seep through the walls of Louis and Zayn’s stationary bus, Louis rolls over in the top bunk bed and opens up the curtain that covers it. The light isn’t so bad, but it still makes Louis’ sensitive eyes squeeze shut.

He jumps down from his bed eventually and notices Zayn’s curtain still closed. He won’t be up for another two hours, probably.

Louis grabs the first clean clothes he can find and he folds them on top of his arm as he walks towards the bathroom. It’s absolutely tiny, with only a urinal and shower, so he has to place his clothes on the table near it.

After a few minutes, when Louis feels his hair is washed enough, and when his body feels awake, he turns the shower off and wraps a towel around his dripping wet body.

Desperate to clean his mouth, he brushes his teeth and spits about five times before he’s happy.

He knows Zayn’s asleep, knows that he’s probably dreaming of something that’s not him. Which is an absolute contrast to Louis’ thought process throughout the night, consisting of nothing but alternative scenarios on the roof. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t get himself off at the thought of them making out in the darkness.

He knows Zayn’s asleep, yet he still confines himself in the small bathroom to dry his body instead of stepping out into an open space. He wouldn’t want Zayn to wake up to that - and although it’s happened many times before, some accidental, some not - he wouldn’t want Zayn to think he’s desperate in any way. Because for some reason standing naked in a hallway is another way of asking Zayn to love him.

When he dries himself (and does a shocking job of drying his hair, as it keeps dripping every five seconds on his back and chest), he steps out with the towel and quickly pulls on his boxers.

He’s buttoning up his jeans when:

"Hey."

Louis looks up, startled.

Zayn’s standing by the doorway, body resting against it, his arms and ankles crossed. He’s got nothing on but his boxers and a pair of socks and his eyes make it obvious that he’s just woken up. His fringe hangs unstyled across his forehead and he’s looking at Louis like he normally does - though, this time it sends a shiver down Louis’ spine.

"Hey." He replies, picking up his shirt. Zayn starts to walk towards his direction and Louis wonders how he didn’t hear him enter. "How long were you there—?"

"Just as you dropped your towel." Zayn says, smiling a little. "It’s a nice sight to wake up to."

Louis feels his cheeks warm up yet again but it’s worse this time because he doesn’t have the darkness to disguise it. So he throws the shirt over his head and pulls it down, hoping that his redness will disappear in that time.

But it doesn’t, of course, because now Zayn’s standing in the kitchen in his underwear with a smug expression, almost like he’s cocky about an achievement.

"So, uh," Louis says, clearing his voice so it sounds lower, "did you have a good sleep?"

And for some reason, for some fucking reason, that makes Zayn’s smile grow. He’s looking down at the cups on the bench as he makes tea and his eyes look like they know something Louis doesn’t.

"Well, I know _you_ did."

Louis’ eyes widen. He was _sure_ that he was silent last night.

But then again, fuzzy eyes come with fuzzy everything, basically.

"Whoops." Louis says, quieter.

"Nah, it was good." Zayn says, looking up at him.

Louis curses in his mind and picks up the towel from the table and attempts to dry his hair some more. He needs something to distract himself immediately.

"You hungry?" He asks Zayn, already opening the fridge facing away from him.

There’s a pause. There’s hardly anything in there since this is only the fridge for the tour bus. They usually go out and buy something, anyway.

"Yeah, hand us some broccoli, will you? Bottom shelf." Zayn says as the kettle comes to a boil.

"Broccoli?" Louis asks sceptically, but shrugs anyway. "You’re a weird man, Malik."

Louis bends over and opens up the compartment that’s supposedly the bottom shelf. Though when he opens it, it’s empty.

Louis frowns. He turns back around, only to find Zayn’s eyes flicking up from Louis’ hips to his face.

"There wasn’t, uh, any… broccoli."

"I know." Zayn replies.

He leans over the bench to grab the kettle and proceeds to fill up the cups. And just like that, as though he didn’t just give away the fact that he was having a look at Louis’ ass, he plays it off as nothing, like that’s _okay_.

"So, then, why did you ask—?"

"Bit cold, are you?" Zayn asks.

"What?"

Louis meets Zayn’s eyes until they trail and settle on Louis’ chest. Louis looks down - his shirt has gone see through from where the wetness of his hair has landed, showing his nipples.

"Oh," Louis says, laughing a little, "I didn’t dry my hair properly so that’s just the—"

"You said you liked me, didn’t you?" Zayn asks. Louis takes too much notice of the small step Zayn takes towards him. He feels his breath hitch in his throat.

"Always have, haven’t I?"

"I wouldn’t know," Zayn says, looking at Louis like he was something to figure out, "you didn’t tell me until last night."

Louis shrugs. “Didn’t want to make things weird.”

Zayn’s lips break into a smile, “Yeah, ‘cause weird is _definitely_ not your thing.”

Louis shoves at his shoulder lightly, “Shut up, m’not weird.”

"Lou, when we first met you were the biggest weirdo I’d ever seen." Zayn says. Louis rolls his eyes.

"Fuck off. Niall’s weirder."

"Who’s sayin’ it’s a bad thing?"

Louis takes a step backwards and he bumps into the kitchen counter. He’s unaware of Zayn stepping closer until he’s right in front of him.

"You’re only looking at me like that ‘cause you’re curious, am I right?"

Because Zayn’s eyes are locked on Louis’ and they shine with want and urgency that Louis feels uncertain about. Sure, he’s dreamt about this for _years_ , but if it’s not real then there’s no point, really.

Zayn shrugs. “Probably. But I gotta admit, I’ve been curious since, like, day one, basically.”

Louis swallows. He can feel Zayn’s warmth from where he’s standing. “Me too.”

He sees Zayn form a smile and it’s impossible to miss. His hand lands on Louis hip and it shoots through him like electricity.

"You’re not still high, are you?" Louis asks, in case Zayn’s still feeling light and unwary from the night before.

But Zayn just frowns strangely at him before saying, “Shut up, will you?”

His mouth covers his own before he has a chance to respond. He almost feels obliged to push him off, to ask him what he’s doing, to double check his eyes _just to make sure_ he’s sober. But then Zayn’s hands are coming up to Louis’ face and his lips are so tender that he has no choice but to melt into it immediately.

And he’s thankful that he does.

Zayn breaks away and the burning inside Louis’ chest dwindles a little. His eyes must be wide because Zayn laughs lightly when he looks at him.

"Surprised?" He asks, hand still lingering at the back of his head, fingers playing with the strands of Louis’ hair.

"No shit." Louis says, feeling weak against the counter top.

He watches as Zayn turns his head to check if the door to the bus is closed. His neck is visible and there’s one vein that he wants to attack, wants to bite and suck and leave a mark so everyone at their next show can see.

Then he turns back around and meets Zayn’s eyes. They’re talking to him but Louis’ mind’s such a blur he doesn’t know what they’re saying.

"You seem confused." Zayn clarifies. His face doesn’t look hurt, though. But as if he was in control.

Louis frowns, “As do you.” Louis swipes a tongue over his own lips and watches as Zayn’s eyes flicker down to watch. He swallows deeply.

"Was that kiss a bit much for you, Malik?" Louis challenges. He knows he’s smirking cockily and that his eyebrows are quirked, waiting for an answer. He also knows that Zayn, now looking at him with a sense of fury in his eyes, _hates_ losing control.

"I don’t know," Zayn says calmly, moving his hand so it presses firmly to the front of Louis’ jeans. Louis takes in a sharp breath. "You tell me."

Louis’ already half-hard, has been since he first had a sight at Zayn shirtless at the door-way. His blood directly runs south and his entire body feels warm.

"I’d say you haven’t got a clue when it comes to boys." Louis bites back, moving his own hand to the front of Zayn’s boxers. He has to keep his eyes from widening as he feels the bulge in his hand.

"Well, you’re wrong." Zayn retorts. This strange act of fore-play, this weird sense of getting off on each other’s frustration, seems to be working for the both of them. "Get up on the counter." Zayn orders.

Louis looks at him, his cock twitches in his pants as he gets the order and he kind of likes where this is going.

So he crosses his arms over his chest, instead. Zayn looks at his hand, frowns because it’s no longer placed on him.

"What if I don’t want to?"

Zayn looks at him for a moment. Louis gets a rush of fear for a split second, anticipating what Zayn will do. Zayn could wreck him.

Then, Zayn laughs.

It doesn’t last long, and when it’s over, leaving Louis in a flurry of confusion, Zayn’s picking Louis up and throwing him over his shoulder.

Louis lets out an exasperated gasp, “Excuse you, Malik, I’m not a doll, you know.”

"Sorry, I was unaware."

Zayn turns around and Louis huffs against Zayn’s back. He notices the tight grip he has on Louis’ thighs and Louis gets even more turned on once he realises how easy this was for Zayn to do.

"You’re a man-handler, you know that?"

"So I’ve been told." Zayn replies. Louis’ expecting to be tossed down onto the couch like a toy - but instead, as though he were made from porcelain, Zayn sets him down gently.

"Owh," Louis pouts after Zayn sits next to him, "was sorta hoping you’d keep up the manly-man persona you had going on there."

Zayn looks at him sceptically, “I bet you watch some pretty messed up porn.”

Louis avoids his eyes. “Don’t act like _you’re_ a fucking nun, mate.”

"Don’t change the subject." Zayn challenges.

Louis looks him up and down once, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

He smirks, “But I thought you liked that.”

Louis feels himself blush, “I—”

"Get on ‘ere."

Zayn pats his lap and Louis feels his heart speed up.

There’s a battle going on in his head that he refuses to address, but it nags at him like a two-year-old, until he eventually caves in and gives it attention. There’s a battle, a strong one that has admittedly started since Zayn found an interest in him. It’s a constant toss-up between _is this a one-time thing?_ and _does he honestly like me or is he doing this for his own benefit?_ and, more strongly, a very jumbled version of _fuckfuckfuckyesfuck_.

The last one overrides everything else as soon as he straddles Zayn’s lap and feels his hands immediately cup around his arse.

 _Who cares if this means shit all, this is fucking great_ , he thinks, jutting his hips forwards as his mouth finds Zayn’s.

Zayn lets out a groan into Louis’ mouth, his grip becoming harder, his fingertips being felt through the denim. He wonders whether that’ll bruise.

Then he’s being pushed back slightly, a hand between Zayn’s chest and his own. Zayn’s looking at him, inspecting him like he was a new piece of furniture and he’s finding the perfect place to put him. The stare is so intense it makes Louis swallow, his cheeks reddening.

He breaks eye contact first and dips his head a little, “What?” He asks, a small smiling appearing.

When he returns to Zayn’s eyes, Zayn hasn’t changed. Then he says, “I’m not sure whether I want to fuck you in those pants or not.”

Louis swears his chest just collapsed. His stomach has fallen to his feet and all blood has left all aspects of his body except for his penis.

"Well," Louis starts, then coughs, as his voice had betrayed him and it came out more of a squeak than a normal voice. He prays Zayn didn’t take any notice. "You’re the boss, aren’t you?"

The knowing smirk that slowly grows on Zayn’s lips doesn’t make Louis feel better in the slightest.

He makes a humming noise, “That’s right.”

Without faltering, Zayn slowly presses his palm against Louis’ crotch again, watching his every expression as he presses harder. Louis sucks in a deep breath.

"All this time and you never told me," Zayn starts saying, lifting Louis up and off his lap. "All this fucking time."

Louis frowns and opens his mouth to question him but it’s almost like Zayn never said a word out loud.

He hovers over Louis’ body as he lies there on the couch, the couch that only he and Zayn have shared on all those post-concert trips. This tour bus is theirs and no-one else’s. If someone were to walk in, it’s their own fault, as far as Louis’ concerned.

"Maybe we should put a sock on the door."

Zayn begins to laugh, “Nah, if someone walks in that’d be priceless.”

Louis agrees with a laugh and sort of hopes that if anyone _does_ , that it’d be Liam.

Zayn finally leans down and presses kisses down his neck, his hands bracing Louis’ naked sides, his hips rolling against Louis’. Louis remembers how bloody hard Zayn was in the kitchen and remembers that the only thing he’s got on is a pair of underwear.

Louis brings his hands up to Zayn’s hips, feeling the way they move for a few seconds before he fiddles with the waistband. He starts pulling them down, but doesn’t get far before Zayn slaps his hand.

"No," He warns. "Not yet."

Louis whines, “But—”

" _God_ , you’re an impatient little fucker, aren’t you?"

Louis bats his eyes up at Zayn and nods as innocently as he can. He doesn’t miss how Zayn’s breath hitches in his throat.

His face softens for the shortest time. Louis has to bite his lip to stop the smile that’s threatening to appear. Then Zayn’s face returns back to his stern and authoritative   expression.

“Obey my orders.” He commands.

Louis lets out a short, hard laugh, “I don’t think you know me well at _all_ , Malik. I bow down to no-one.”

Zayn’s eyes harden and burn into Louis’. And because he’s a challenging little shit, Louis tries again to push down Zayn’s underwear.

Zayn doesn’t say anything, but instead grinds down his hips hard enough onto Louis’ that Louis’ body dips into the couch. It takes him by surprise, his head lolling back, a sound of pleasure involuntarily escaping his mouth.

And before he recover and lock eyes with Zayn’s again, a witty response on the tip of his tongue, he feels a weight on his chest.

He feels Zayn’s breath against his neck and his pants suddenly seem way too restricting.

“You’ll definitely bow down to me.” He whispers into Louis’ ear.

Louis’ breathing stops. He swallows harshly but tries to remain smart.

He says with the strongest voice he can manage, “Well, if that’s the way you’re gonna react every time I disobey—“

He’s cut off by the way Zayn’s teeth sink into the skin between his neck and shoulder. Louis’ fingers automatically cling to Zayn’s back, his face scrunching up as he feels the pain flow through his body. Then Zayn stops biting and laps his tongue over his mark. Louis relaxes underneath him, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Lift your body off the couch.” Zayn orders, his voice being softer than his previous orders. Louis obeys without thinking.

With his co-operation, Zayn smiles a little, his eyes giving him a knowing look. Almost as though they were saying “Ha, knew I’d win.” And that makes Louis glare at him.

Zayn’s hands find the brim of Louis’ shirt, bunching it up before beginning to roll it up his body. Louis’ arms automatically raise up above his head submissively. He hates being submissive, he’s concluded. He’s _always_ been the dominant one. Always.

“You don’t like taking orders, do you?” Zayn grins, pausing with Louis’ shirt at his shoulders.

“No, I feel like an obedient pet.”

Zayn’s gaze falls to the evident outline in Louis’ jeans  and his dick twitches at the attention.

“Your cock begs to differ.”

He whips off the t-shirt, dropping it to the floor. Then before Louis can spit something back - prove to Zayn that, no, that’s been there _before_ the orders and, actually, has softened ever since – Zayn’s hands grab onto Louis to bring his body onto his own, their lips connecting again.

Louis knows that he’s kidding himself. He couldn’t lie if he tried right now, it would be a total failure if he even _attempted_ to tell Zayn that he wasn’t absolutely passed the point of being turned on.

He crawls onto Zayn’s lap again, this time feeling Zayn’s cock against his arse immediately. Louis moans into Zayn’s mouth because of it and Zayn’s grip on Louis’ cheeks tighten. Louis’ tongue finds Zayn’s and he feels the sudden need to kiss Zayn until his mouth falls off.

Zayn’s hands land on Louis’ sides and he forces Louis’ hips downwards as Zayn moves up against him.

Louis lets out a whine that was _not_ supposed to slip out.

They pull apart and Louis shoots Zayn an evil look as Zayn looks at him interestingly, his eyebrow cocked.

“Let’s make a bet.” Zayn says.

Louis takes his position to his advantage and starts moving his arse in circles on top of Zayn’s growing dick. He doesn’t miss the way Zayn’s new grip on the edge of the couch tightens.

“Mm? What type of bet?”

“If, by the end of this, you’re not begging for me, then you win. But, if you are, then I win.” Zayn’s face is so _calm_ and collected that Louis’ more than determined to make a mess of him before Louis loses control.

He presses down on him, watching carefully as Zayn’s eyelids flutter close for the slightest second. “What do we get if we win?”

Zayn shrugs, “I’ll decide that when I win.”

Louis lets out a mocking laugh, his hand comes to the back of Zayn’s head and he plays with the strands of hair before saying, “You better get started, then. By this rate I’ll be begging you to hurry up.”

Zayn _growls_ , the sound coming from the back of his throat and it sends a shock through Louis’ body. He’s thrown off Zayn’s lap in an instant and being spun around so his legs are off the couch. Then Zayn’s in front of him, kneeling with his face close to Louis’ lap.

“Good boy,” Louis says, knowing this will tick Zayn off, “now, bow before me.”

Zayn looks up at him. Louis expects him to say something in response, but he just stares at him. And if Zayn wasn’t so fucking good-looking, maybe then Louis would be able to handle it. But, of course, he breaks eye contact first, suddenly regretting his recent witty remark.

“I mean, I – uh,” Louis stutters, being interrupted by the way Zayn’s eyes lock with his as both his hands trail up his thighs. Louis lets out a muffled, strangled voice from the back of his throat.

Zayn finally breaks his gaze and Louis feels like he can breathe properly again. That is, until, Zayn unzips his jeans and takes Louis out of his pants. He knows how his cock is trapped in his underwear, how it looks suffocated and how he’s leaking through impatiently. He wishes he didn’t look like that so Zayn wouldn’t know how eager Louis is already. He didn’t need him any more cockier than he already is.

Zayn’s lips press against the thin material lightly. Louis sucks in a sudden breath. He tries to think of off-putting things, tries thinking of _anything_ but the fact that Zayn’s lips are pressing against his covered cock.

He’s certain that he’ll be coming before any actual contact. Although, that’d be better, wouldn’t it? That way he wouldn’t _have_ to beg.

Then Zayn’s tongue starts to wet the material, making it thinner, making the warmth of Zayn’s tongue surround his dick, making his toes curl.

He wants Zayn to keep going, just fucking take him out of his underwear and suck on it. Wants to sit on Zayn’s dick and bounce on it. But he doesn’t beg, not at all.

However, Zayn does what Louis fears, and stops.

He leans back on his heels. He looks up at Louis again, every inch of contact they had suddenly broken.

Louis frowns, his cock pulsing with anger.

“Wha—what are you doing?”

Zayn smirks at him, “Wait here.” He says, and stands up. Louis looks at him dumbfounded. “And _don’t_ touch yourself.”

He turns his back and Louis rolls his eyes at him. Zayn walks towards their bunk beds and turns back around at the doorway, “I’m warning you. Don’t.”

Then he disappears into the room.

Louis shoves his hand down his pants the second he’s out of sight. He bites his lip as he strokes himself, relaxing into the much needed touch, closing his eyes. He tilts his head back into the couch, pulling at himself underneath his underwear. When he hears footsteps, he tells himself, that’s when he’ll stop like nothing happened.

Although, he doesn’t hear footsteps. Just the sound of Zayn coughing in front of him.

Louis opens his eyes and his chest explodes with warmth as he sees Zayn burning his eyes into him. He slowly brings his hand away from himself and tucks it into his side.

“Even though that was—incredibly hot,” Zayn says, then brings one of his hands that are kept behind his back into view, showing a pair of handcuffs, “I knew you’d disobey.”

Before Louis can protest, Zayn grabs Louis’ wrists and locks them up together. Louis gapes at him, mouth and eyes widening.

“You can’t _handcuff_ me.” Louis splutters, abashed.

“Just did.” Zayn winks. He places the small bottle that was held in his other hand onto the coffee table. Louis doesn’t have to look twice to know that it’s lube.

Zayn kneels down again, shifting Louis’ pants down his hips a little more. He presses his lips against the area where Louis’ hips dip, then down until he reaches his waistband.

“Now that I know how desperate you bloody well are, I’ll get started, shall I?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Louis accidently says.

Zayn smiles and Louis cringes at his slip up.

His fingers roll Louis’ waistband down, showing the tip of his dick, and Zayn takes it out. His cock lands against his belly, he loves the way Zayn’s breath hitches in his throat.

His mouth doesn’t hesitate, though. He licks a strip up his cock, pausing at the tip. Then his hand wraps around the base, Louis holds back a gasp. Zayn’s tongue licks at the tip, his hand pulling down the foreskin so he can reach his sensitive bit.

Zayn takes him in, only dipping down a little bit before raising again. Then he goes down, further, then pulls back up. He does this a few times until he’s almost reaching his hand. Louis wonders whether or not Zayn would be able to fit all of him in his mouth.

Then, without his mouth slipping off, Zayn’s free arm reaches out beside him and picks up the bottle that he put down on the coffee table. Louis almost shoots his load when he catches Zayn looking up at him through his eyelashes, his cheeks hollowed as his lips remain wrapped around his dick.

The bottle is opened and Zayn moves off of Louis. Louis lets out a soft, high-pitched groan of protest. He watches as Zayn slicks up two of his fingers, then pauses as though he was contemplating something.

“How used to this are you?”

Louis almost wants to laugh at that. “Very. How else do you think I was getting off last night?”

Zayn curses under his breath and suddenly averts his eyes. Louis grins at the pink he sees appearing at Zayn’s cheeks.

He returns his non-wet hand to Louis’ cock and puts his mouth on it again. Louis wants to clutch at something but the handcuffs restrict him, and if he wanted to come before, he definitely wants to as soon as he feels the tips of Zayn’s fingers move towards his arse.

The light pressure of his fingers around his hole as he slathers the lube onto it almost – _almost_ – makes Louis want to tell him, “Please, Zayn.”

And as Zayn bobs his head, his tongue flattening onto him, he slips in his first finger in with ease. It makes Louis’ hips pull up from the couch, his fingernails pressing into his palm. Zayn’s finger moves inside him, swirling around and curling, making Louis sink his teeth into his lip.

Zayn starts moving the hand he has around Louis’ cock in time with his mouth just as he eases a second finger into him. Louis seals his mouth. He makes a metal note to never open it, knowing that if he would, he’d beg and plead straight away.

But that all flies out the window as soon as Zayn’s fingers ease in deeper and curl a certain way to  touch _that_ spot.

Louis cries out, his hips jolting forward, fucking into Zayn’s mouth.

“God, Zayn – Zayn,” Louis pants, his hips moving so his cock slides in and out of his mouth, “Fuck, I wanna – I wanna ride you.”

Zayn stills,  a moan vibrating around Louis. He takes his fingers out and the hand that was around his dick moves up to the hand that Louis has on his lap. Zayn pulls off of Louis’ cock and looks him square in the eye, “Beg me.”

Louis hesitates, his chest rising and falling in time with his shortened breaths. He doesn’t have the strength to roll his eyes, or to grit his teeth together and shake his head. Instead, he strokes his fingers down Zayn’s cheek to his jawline.

“ _Please_ , Zayn.” He pleads, voice broken.

He’s close, he knows he is, so close that he’s not even sure he’ll be _able_ to ride him.

“Jesus Christ,” Zayn hisses under his breath, eyes roaming over Louis’ dishevelled body. He swallows once, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He looks at Louis curiously and slowly places his hand at the base of Louis’ angry cock.

Louis feels weak at the touch. Zayn strokes him upwards, then he presses his thumb against the top of his dick. As soon as he swipes over him, Louis comes.

His head tilts back and the room fills with shouts of Zayn’s name.

His body weakens, his eyes falling closed for a few moments as he regains his senses. He eventually looks up again, opening his eyes.

He’s met with a come-covered Zayn, touching himself furiously with his eyes locked on his own. Louis’ heart speeds up in his chest as he watches.

Then Zayn comes over his hand, getting some on his belly and chest, his eyes falling shut with his eyebrows pulled slightly together. His mouth opens to let out a strangled sound.

Louis’ never seen him looking so beautiful in his life.

Zayn sits back onto his heels and braces himself with his hands.

“You won,” Louis says, as loud as he can manage, which isn’t very loud at all.

Zayn cracks a smile, shaking his head softly, “Yeah,”

“So,” Louis raises a brow, “what’s your prize?”

Zayn blinks up at him delicately. Louis will forever be baffled at how innocent he can look sometimes, even though not long ago he was ordering Louis around like he was a general in the army.

Zayn yanks out a tissue from the nearby tissue box and pats his face, wiping off Louis’ come. He balls it up into his hand and drops it by his side before leaning up so he’s directly in front of him.

“I was hoping,” He says, then kisses Louis once, “that it could be you?”

He phrases it like a question and it makes Louis’ heart skip a few beats. Well, he wasn’t expecting _that_.

“Me?” He asks, blinking twice at him.

“Yeah,” Zayn smiles softly, “hoping I could keep you.”

Louis feels short of breath. He lets out a shaky one and manages to return a cheeky smile, “Only if it means that I’ll be able to get out of these handcuffs.”

Zayn laughs into Louis’ shoulder and nods. He stands up and disappears into their room and returns back with a small silver key.

He lets out a sigh of relief when he feels the handcuffs release around his wrists. And with his no longer bounded limbs, he throws his arms around Zayn’s neck without a second thought.

He feels Zayn’s arms around his waist a second later, squeezing him gently. Louis presses a kiss to Zayn’s neck and smiles against it.

“No more secrets, okay?” Zayn says, his thumb drawing circles in Louis’ lower back.

Louis huffs out a laugh, “Agreed.”

**Author's Note:**

> ♡ [tumblr](http://louiswmalik.tumblr.com/) ♡


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